To Chase Rainbows
by Scifiroots
Summary: A slightly different first meeting between Wolverine and Rogue.


_In aere piscari, in mare venari _("to chase rainbows")

**By**: Clarity Scifiroots  
**Fandom/Pairing**: X-men (I'm only familiar with movie-verse) / Pre Logan/Rogue  
**Notes**: For jangalain's AU request.  
**Standard disclaimers apply.  
Summary**: A slightly different first meeting between Wolverine and Rogue.  
_Edited October 3, 2005_

She'd been traveling west and northwards since the end of March, two months ago now. It wasn't an easy process and by no means quick, but she wasn't really afraid and there was no time limit to hinder her journey. She still woke up in the middle of the night sometimes and felt the loneliness settle heavily on her shoulders; she feared she would be alone forever.

She hitch-hiked most often with semi-truck drivers so that she didn't need to sit too close to anyone. There was a time or two she rode in the back of someone's pick-up truck and got nauseous from riding backwards.

For days she'd go without eating very much since she barely ever had money—she had wasted it early and even that hadn't been much. There were a handful of people she rode with who either sympathized with her or pitied her and handed her a few bills before she left; she preferred it when they would offer her some food and something to drink, instead.

She had never imagined that she would make her journey for the reasons she did. How could she have known about the frightening power her body contained? In the beginning she had hoped and prayed that it was some bad dream brought on from watching too many horror movies with her friends; by now she had long since given that hope up. She felt her hunger too acutely for it to be a dream and even in a dream she would have never made the decision to leave home.

"Home" had lost much of its meaning since that horrible afternoon when she first felt the rush of someone else's _life_ flowing into her body. Since that time she had stayed home, barely daring to go outside; her parents hadn't protested, nor did they say anything directly to her. She overheard her parents talking one night, and her father had said how relieved he was that they didn't have to be the ones to suggest her isolation. Sometimes they argued about looking for someone to help her. They never followed through, though, and as the weeks passed she more often than not took her meals to her room and ate alone in the more comfortable silence of her bedroom.

Sometimes she imagined how they had reacted when they found her gone. _They must be relieved_, she thought. Maybe they had been sad, but it wouldn't last, she knew. The distance that had grown between them was too far to ever mend.

"We're here, kid. I need to make my deliveries." The driver of her latest ride broke into her thoughts. She glanced at him and nodded silently.

"Thanks," she said.

"Plenty of folks stop in 'ere," the man told her, nodding towards the numerous campers and rigs parked in the truck lot. "You sure'll git a ride out."

She nodded again before climbing out, thankful to the drive that had taken her up most of Nevada and always handed over a sandwich and water bottle even before her stomach started growling. She turned to wave hesitantly at him as he pulled out. He smiled at her and she was surprised to realize that it was the first look of compassion that she had seen since before everything had changed.

Later that evening she wandered over to the only place offering food that she could see. The place was fairly small and not in the best of shape, but it was only a side-stop for truckers traveling through. Downstairs offered a kitchen providing very standard meals and boasting a nicer-looking bar where a number of men gathered. Upstairs there were apparently rooms where drivers could stay for the night to sleep off their booze and a sign pointed up the stairs for showers. She would have liked a shower but wouldn't dare to risk one anyplace she didn't feel sure of—and this place was giving her an uncomfortable feeling.

She squeezed her way past a small group of men at the end of the bar, careful to pull her hood close about her face and make sure that her gloves were in place. Eventually she captured the bar keep's attention and made her order before going to sit down at a small table in a dark corner. It didn't take long cheeseburger and fries she'd ordered to appear in front of her. She ate the food happily, knowing that it might have to tide her over for a few days.

Occasionally she flicked her gaze towards the bar, trying to keep an eye on the drunken men who were getting drunker by the minute. She knew it probably wasn't a real safe place for her to be on her own, but she knew it would only take the brush of skin against skin to scare off anyone who approached her; it was a grim sort of self-defense.

She was fine throughout her dinner, no one seemed to be paying any attention to her. Just as she finished the last french-fry she looked up and saw that three men were heading her way. She straightened up and started to tug slowly at her right-hand glove underneath the table. It was obvious that the trio was four sheets to the wind and looking for something she was completely uninterested in giving.

"Hey there, sweetheart," the shortest of the men leered at her. Repressing a shudder, she continued to stare at the men stonily, praying she could project the seriousness of her threat so they would just back off.

"Ain't she a cute thing?" one said in a slurred voice.

She was disgusted to see that the first guy had grabbed his crotch and was jerking it in obvious suggestion.

"Leave me alone," she growled softly, pulling her glove further down; it hadn't slipped out of her sleeve yet.

"Nah, precious, y'look lonely." Two of the men slid into chairs on either side of her and before she could finish tugging her glove off they had grabbed her arms.

"C'mon, hunny."

"No! Let me go!" she shouted, hoping to attract someone's attention at the bar.

"Pipe down, precious and pucker up." A fist grabbed her hood and the hair underneath, jerking her head backwards. She saw her assailant's face very clearly for a moment before he descended and sealed his fate when he crushed his mouth clumsily over hers.

Her entire body tingled and she forgot about the disgust she felt. The very essence of the man flooded her senses and she felt slightly dizzy from all the alcohol he'd consumed. Abruptly she was aware that her arms were free and the man who had been kissing her had fallen to the floor in a fit of seizures. His two buddies howled madly in a mix of rage and fear. She trembled with the sense of another person's presence in her body and stared numbly at the grey face of the shocked man.

"Holy shit!"

"What the hell happened?"

"Stay the fuck away from that freak!"

"Ronnie! Fuck, man!"

"There ain't even a hospital nearby!"

Men's voices started to fill her ears and she stood quickly, knowing she had to leave while confusion and fear kept everyone off-balance. She didn't know how she'd find a ride now, but she would walk as far as she needed to.

The men leapt out of her way as she rushed towards the exit, her heart pumping wildly with adrenaline.

"Wait up, bitch!" Someone screamed at her. She wouldn't have stopped if a man hadn't appeared in front of her, his arms extended with gun in his trembling hands. She felt cold. "What the _fuck_ are you? Shit!" The man's voice shook just as much as his hands but she doubted it would matter if he missed anything vital, they would just let her bleed to death.

"Let me go," she whispered calmly. "Let me just leave and go far, far away from here."

"What?" he shouted hysterically, his eyes wild. "You're fucking kidding me! You're a God-damned monster!" She was surprised he hadn't taken a shot at her yet but knew the moment would come all too soon. It was strange, even now she didn't really feel fear... she only wished it were done.

"Let her go." A new voice startled her and she turned her head to see a flash of metal descend in the dimness of the bar to _cut through_ the gun pointed at her. It was too much for her attacker; he fainted dead away, a wet spot growing on his pants.

She turned startled eyes to the man who had saved her. He was watching her with a blank expression; it was too dark to tell what color his eyes were. She could make out the shape of a muscular body and saw the shadows of long sideburns on his face. Her eyes caught the glint of metal again and she was stunned to see that what she had thought were maybe knives were actually blades _coming out of his hands_; between his knuckles three long blades protruded from skin that had split open.

He looked at something behind her, and he jerked his head sharply towards the doors. "We need to get out of here." The blades suddenly retracted and she watched in amazement as his skin began to close almost immediately. "Come on, kid," he growled at her when she didn't move.

She had to jog to keep up with his long strides. She wondered at the turn of events as she followed him. It was hard to wrap her mind around what had just happened. What did this mean, anyway? She had caught a little bit of the reports on televisions about "Mutants" and had guessed that she must be one of them... Was this man a Mutant too?

She skidded to a stop when he turned around to face her. She saw an emotion she couldn't identify clearly flash across his face as he stared down at her.

"Get in," he said after a moment of apparent consideration.

She became aware of their surroundings and realized that they were standing in front of a pickup truck with a camper fixed on the bed in the back and overhanging the cab of the truck. Still feeling like she was walking on air, she went to the passenger side and opened the door. The man got in and started the engine right away; she knew why when she glanced back at the bar—a few of the men were daring to venture outside. She had barely buckled her seatbelt when he pulled out with a squeal of tires. She gripped the dashboard tightly and forced herself to breath steadily to calm her stomach.

It took an hour for them to speak to each other again. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and asked gruffly, "What's your name?"

She stared at him and felt a sense of... kinship. "Rogue," she said in her heavy southern accent. He glanced sharply at her but didn't ask for her real name. "What about you?"

For a few moment she thought he wouldn't answer; then he said, "Wolverine."

She smiled at him.

"Where were you going?" he asked her, his voice reflecting how he was slowly easing his tensed grip on the steering wheel.

She stared out the windshield and said softly, "Anywhere."

He was watching her again, she could feel it. "How long have you been running?"

She looked down at her glove-covered hands. "Two months." She admitted, "Feels like forever."

They rode in silence for a time.

For some as yet unidentified reason she felt compelled to tell him, "My name's Marie."

Their eyes met for a few moments. "Logan," he told her.

She smiled again, for the first time in ages feeling warm again.

** Fin **


End file.
